Start of Something Gold
by Points
Summary: The gang wasn't always complete, Johnny didn't always have friends in his life. What was it like when the gang was first forming?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have another account on here, and if anyone can guess who I am correctly they'll get a chapter dedicated to them. What's my other penname?  
Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I don't own The Outsiders.

* * *

"Hell, Doreen, did you really need that new dress?" Johnny's father yelled once again at his mother, staring at a dress laid out on the table. "What in God's name is wrong with the one's you've already got!" 

"Aw, hell Chester, now that the kids around no one wants to look at me anymore, makes me feel ugly. When I was pregnant I was the most important thing to everyone, everyone wanted to look at me, but now that he's here-" she nudged Johnny with her toe, giving him a disdainful look "- no one wants to look at me anymore, it's always about Johnny. Look at Johnny this, see Johnny do that, Johnny Johnny Johnny! It's not Doreen, let me make the tea! Doreen, go sit down and I'll bring some biscuits! It's JOHNNY!"

Johnny's father gave 6 year old Johnny a look of disgust.

"Hear that boy?" he yelled. "Your making your mother sad. When your mothers sad, she spends money. Money we don't have. So you can get the hell out! OUT!"

Johnny didn't know what to do. He'd never been away from his parents, what was he supposed to do if he went 'out'?

"Awrite," Johnny said, giving his father a sad look, thinking that he'd go to the park or somewhere else that his parents would be able to find them if they went looking for him.

"GO!" his father yelled, grabbing the back of Johnny's shirt and dragging him to the door, opening it, and literally throwing him through the door.

"When can I-" Johnny started to ask, but the door was slammed in his face before he could get the words out. Tears started to well up in his eyes as he started to walk out the dirt path they called a laneway, kicking up dust as he walked, but before he even reached the sidewalk tears were pouring down his face. Johnny had always been treated rough, but never rough like that.

"Ponyboy, you can't come!" Johnny heard someone call from down the street, and he could hear snippets of the conversation.

"Why not?" said a second voice, that of a young child.

"You'll get in the way!" said the first voice again.

"Soderrr!" said the second voice again.

"You ain't big enough to play football!"

"But I wanna be with yoou!" said the young voice again. Johnny continued walking, wishing someone would ask _him_ to play football, or even take the time to tell him why he couldn't, but he thought it would never happen. Johnny wasn't a sociable type, he never seemed to be able to make many friends… Maybe because he never talked to him, or maybe because of the negative energy he gave off that he got because of his home life.

"… If we let you play, we'd have to find some other small kid to play on the other team so it would be fair. But no other kid around here's going to want to play football…" It was a new voice, but Johnny it trail off, out of his mind, all the while wishing that they would ask him. He didn't know how to play, but he'd be willing to learn. He kept walking, kicking pebbles down the road as he went.

"Hey kid!" someone called from behind him, but he didn't listen. There were kids all over this side of Tulsa.

"Hey, kid! You! Black haired kid walking up there! Hey! Hey! Kid! Hey you kid up there!" said a very happy voice, which seemed to get more energy the more it spoke. At the mention of black hair, Johnny stopped. He _was_ walking ahead of them, and he _did_ have black hair…

"Geez kid, never thought I'd catch up to you, you walk real fast for someone so small," said someone who was now beside him with a big smile on his face, talking in a very happy tone. "I was wondering, my brother wants to play, but he's only 4, and you can't be much older, and you're about the same size, so if you wanted so he'd leave me alone, you could come play football with us so that he can play so that he'll stop asking and we can go play finally…" The kid said more, but Johnny wasn't listening. He couldn't make too much sense out of what the guy was saying he was talking so fast, but that wasn't why he stopped listening. He'd just been invited to play football! Sure, it was only so this guys brother would leave him alone, but he'd never been asked to play football before.

"Yoo-hoo!" said the guy again. "I just said my name is Sodapop, who are yooou?" he asked, almost in a sing-song voice.

"I'm… Johnny Cade," Johnny said in the quiet voice that became notorious for him.

"Hi then, Johnny, nice to meet you… Now do you want to come so we can play? They're probably at the lot by now!" said Soda, running in a different direction, presumably to play football. What else could Johnny do? He followed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: No one guessed, which is fine, but I have a dedication anyways.  
Disclaimer: Don't own The Outsiders  
Dedication: To Heidi, because she gave me the idea :P

Johnny hadn't turned out to be much of a football player, not that it really bothered Soda or Steve, who had been planning on playing one on one anyways. Johnny and Ponyboy had ended up sitting on the side, watching the other two boys tackle each other and throw the ball around. Johnny didn't mind much, so he calmly sat on the edge of the lot with Ponyboy and tried to pick up ideas for the next time he got asked to play with them, if there was a next time. Johnny had been thinking about how much different his life would be if he had friend so hard that he didn't notice Steve and Soda come over to them.

"Hey Johnny," said Soda sitting down.

"Hi," Johnny said quietly, suddenly getting the feeling that he was out of place. These people had been friends for a while, Johnny was sure, and here he was; an outsider.

"D'you wanna come over to our house for a while? If it's ok with your parents... It'd probably be okay with ours…"

"I dunno…" Johnny said, unsure of what his parents would say, but he had forgotten about how mad his father had been since he was so excited about being invited over to someone's hours.

"Yeah, you should come and then we can use the fort!" Soda said. He didn't explain what the fort was, and Johnny wasn't about to ask. Soda's energy made Johnny want to hide yet speak at the same time. Ponyboy wasn't saying anything, and neither was Steve.

Johnny thought for a minute, but then remembered how mad his parents had been and doubted they would let him go. "Maybe another day," Johnny told them. "I think I'm busy." He looked at Soda's confused and sad face, and got up and started walking home. He'd been stupid to say 'another day', these people didn't want to be his friends, they just wanted him to get Ponyboy out of t he way.

"Come over sometime!" Soda shouted at his retreating back, but Johnny didn't notice. He'd just remembered something…

_"Johnny?" Mrs. Cade called from the living room. Johnny's father wasn't home yet, but three year old Johnny was sitting on the kitchen floor, doodling on the walls with a crayon._

_"Mom?" Johnny answered back, walking into the living room where he jumped up onto the couch with his mother._

_"What were you doing in the kitchen?" she asked._

_"Nothin'," Johnny answered, wondering if she somehow knew what he'd been doing._

_"You were drawing on the walls again weren't you?" When Johnny was silent, she continued. "Your father isn't going to like that you know… He's told you not to do it before." _

_Johnny thought back, trying to remember being told not to do it, but he couldn't, so he tried to give his mother an innocent look._

_"I know what you were just doing… But your father's not going to like what you did. Don't worry about what he say's, okay? He loves you, he just worries about you sometimes…"_

_Later that night, when Johnny had been laying in bed after being cursed out for half an hour, he couldn't help but think that maybe his mother was wrong._

Johnny remembered how bad he had felt after his father had yelled at him and started walking a little faster so that he would get home without having his father worry about him.

"I'm back!" Johnny said when he opened the door to his house, having finally arrived.

Silence.

"Mom?" he called out.

Silence.

"Dad?"

Click. The television turned on, so Johnny walked into the living room to see what was happening. His father was sitting on the chesterfield, remote in one hand, beer in the other. His mother was no where to be found.

"Hi dad!" Johnny said, jumping up onto the couch, only to be pushed down by his father.

"Where'd you go, son?" his father asked, slurring his words slightly.

"I met some kids! We went and played football, they're re-"

Suddenly, Johnny's father was on his feet.

"Some kids? Some kids? Kids around here, don't be hanging out with them! Damnit Johnny, hang around kids like the kids around here and you'll be getting yourself killed! People around here ain't no good!" he yelled and started pacing the room. "Why the hell do you think you've got no friends? You think your better than them? Do you?"

Johnny couldn't make any sense of what his father was saying. He wasn't going to get killed by playing football with the three kids he met today…

"I asked you a question, boy!"

"I-" Johnny started, but before he could finish what he was saying his father had pushed him to the ground.

"I ain't raising a hood of a kid! I spend six years with you in this house, now you go and throw it all away! Why? To play some football?" He grabbed Johnny's shirt collar and pulled him to his feet. "You know what, boy? If you want to play football with them so bad, why don't you go find them?" he shouted. "Go find them already!" He gave Johnny a hard shove towards the door.

"I don-" Johnny starts again, but his father wasn't listening.

"And don't you bother coming back until your mothers home, you hear me? You ain't welcome here anymore!"

Johnny stood in the hallway, his father towering over his six year old frame.

"Go!" As if it was an incentive to leave, his father took his hand and smacked Johnny across the face. So Johnny did as he was told; he went, sure that the words his mother had told him three years ago weren't true at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Dedication: Heidi, for once again helping me with ideas when I have writers block.  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

Johnny looked down as he started walking down the sidewalk outside his house, wondering why his father didn't like the kids he had met. He hadn't even let him explain about them, tell him that they weren't bad kids. He glanced up briefly, feeling a drop of rain, then looked back down at the ground before touching his face and feeling a place on his cheek that was swelling and sure to leave a bruise. The pain of his fathers hatred and disapproval was still fresh in his mind, and he hardly noticed where his feet were taking him when he felt more raindrops.

"Great," Johnny mumbled to himself as he walked around his neighborhood. "I'm going to get soaked," he said, looking down at his shirt which was now speckled dark with raindrops. He'd never liked the rain, especially when it started storming because of how wet and cold it was. He looked around for something that would shelter him from the oncoming rain, wishing he had thought to grab a jacket, but saw nothing so he continued to walk, not watching where he was going. The rain continued, and didn't relent as Johnny hoped it would.

"Boys!" Johnny heard someone shout from up the street. "Come in, it's raining, you'll get soaked!"

"Awwwww! Dad!" someone said, and Johnny recognized the voice as being Soda's. "We're just getting started!"

"Don't want you getting sick, come on!"

Johnny kept walking along the sidewalk and saw three backs retreating into a house. He knew one was Soda, and one was Steve, but he didn't know who the third was, but he knew it was the Curtis' house, because Soda had said 'Dad'… Johnny looked back down the street, hoping he would see his father in the doorway, beckoning him back home… But to no avail; the door was shut and the car wasn't in the driveway. He couldn't go back yet, his mother wasn't home.

"Johnny!" someone said, and Johnny looked up from his feet where he had been counting his steps. "Why are you out in the rain?" The word 'rain' was drawn out, and Johnny saw Soda standing in the doorway of his home, soaking wet and covered in mud. Johnny started to worry a little, wondering if Soda would find out that his father had ordered him out and hit him.

"Uh…" Johnny said stupidly, not knowing how to answer.

"Shut the door!" Johnny heard someone say from inside the house, but it didn't shut. Soda turned his dead for a second and yelled back, "But my friend's out here!"

The door opened a little wider and a woman Johnny assumed was Soda's mother appeared standing behind Soda.

"Why are you out in the rain?" she asked, her voice kind and concerned.

"Well…" Johnny said, not sure of what to say, but he was unexpectedly saved by Soda.

"I told him he could come over, so he's coming over, right Johnny?" Soda said in a very loud voice, then came running out of the house and ran over to Johnny. "Right?"

Johnny smiled, glad for the excuse. "Yup! My dad said I wasn't busy so I could come over!"

"Come on and meet my parents then, Johnny!" Soda said, running back to his house. Johnny jogged behind him, and Soda stopped at the door.

"Uhh…" Soda said, looking around but not stepping onto the carpeted floor a few feet away.

"What?" Johnny asked, but the answer was clear seconds after he asked.

"Soda, did you not wear shoes outside again? And you're all muddy! You're going to get the carpet dirty, I just vacuumed today!" said Soda's mother, walking out of a different room.

"Aww, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to bring Johnny in out of the rain!" Soda said with a smile. "This is my mom," he told Johnny. "And mom, this is Johnny."

"Hello, dear," she said, then walked over to Johnny and shook his hand lightly.

"Hi," Johnny replied nervously.

"You must be freezing, being out in the rain!" she said. "Would you like some hot chocolate?"

"Uh…"

"Come here, dear, and I'll fix some for you," she said, leading the way to the kitchen. Johnny stayed where he was. "And Soda, go around the back and wash your feet in the bathtub!"

"Alright…" Soda grumbled, and headed back out the door, leaving Johnny alone.

He sighed lightly then walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Curtis smiled at him when he walked in. "You can sit, if you like," she told him, indicating a chair when she noticed him hovering uncomfortably by the door.

Johnny walked over and sat down. "Thanks," he said softly.

"It'll be ready in a minute," Mrs. Curtis said, putting a kettle on the stove, then sat down in a chair opposite to Johnny. "How come Soda's never talked about you before?"

"I just met him today playing football," Johnny answered, thinking that Mrs. Curtis was probably thinking of him as the lousy kind of kid that his own father had told him about.

Mrs. Curtis smiled. "Where'd you get that bruise?"

Johnny felt his cheek. "Playin' football," he answered, hoping she'd believe it. He tried to smile, but failed.

"The boys can be awful rough sometimes…" she said, but Johnny got the feeling she was lying about something. "There's the kettle," she said, standing up and pouring some water into some mugs just as Soda came running into the kitchen, this time with Steve behind him.

"See? I told you Johnny was here!" Soda was saying, sitting down beside Johnny.

"Wasn't my fault I didn't hear him!"

Mrs. Curtis set down a cup of hot chocolate in front of each of them, one for herself, and two extra's.

"Ponyboy, Darry!" she called, and two boys came into the kitchen seconds later and sat down in front of the two extra cups.

"Thanks," said the boy Johnny didn't know.

"Darry!" Soda said, after taking a big mouthful of hot chocolate that spilt down his chin. "This is my friend Johnny."

"Hi Johnny," Darry said in a friendly voice.

"Hi…" Johnny said quietly, thinking that maybe some people in the world would care about him after all.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Since no one (Minus LikeWhoaa or whatever she's going by these days) will entertain me and update, I'll entertain myself. And I'm trying to stop saying Johnny so much, bear with me. It's a hard habit to break.

"Johnny?" Mrs. Curtis asked later that night when she went into the living room to see the boys.

"Yes?" he asked, looking up from where Soda and Steve were teaching him how to play their version of poker. He'd seen his father play poker plenty of times, but he didn't play like them.

"When does your father want you home? It's getting dark, you wouldn't want him to worry…"

Johnny, who had been dreading going home, looked out the window, and surely enough the sun was setting, meaning it would be dark soon. "He didn't give me a time…" he answered.

"Would you like to call him?"

"No…" said Johnny, who didn't even know his own phone number. They were a bunch of numbers and he couldn't ever remember them. "I guess I could go home now," he said, hoping that his mother would be home.

"Let me grab my coat and I'll walk you... It's still raining and you haven't even got a coat on," Mrs. Curtis said and walked out, only to come back a moment later with an umbrella and a jacket on. "Ready?"

"Yeah… Bye guys," Johnny said, standing up.

"Aww, mom, does he have to go yet?" Soda asked

"Sorry Soda," Mrs. Curtis said with a smile. "You've already got one friend sleeping over…" With that, she gave Steve what looked like a sympathetic glance, but Johnny wasn't sure he had read the look right.

"Bye," Steve said. Johnny didn't know what to think of Steve, he was nice, but he wasn't as friendly as Soda.

"Bye Johnny!" said Soda, waving at Johnny who was at the door.

When they stepped out into the cold night, Johnny was wishing he had brought a coat... If nothing else, it could have stopped the cold rain from lashing at his arms. The umbrella stopped it from hitting their heads, but their faces were left raw.

"You live down the street, Johnny?" Mrs. Curtis asked.

"Yeah…" Johnny said, looking down at where he could see his porch.

"I've seen you around before, with your mother."

"Yeah…" Johnny said again, not sure what to say in reply and they continued walking in silence.

After a few minutes, Johnny stopped.

"Is this your house?" Mrs. Curtis asked.

"Yup…" Johnny answered, looking up at the house and gulping. His mothers car was not back yet, but the living room light was on, meaning Johnny's father was home but his mother was not… And his father _had_ said not to come home until she was back.

"Everything alright, Johnny?" She'd seen him gulp.

"Yup," Johnny said, and walked towards his house, turned and waved, then entered his house.

"Dorrie?" his father called out when Johnny shut the door.

Johnny didn't really want to deal with his father, so he started walking to his bedroom, hoping to avoid him.

"Johnny?" his father called out again, but Johnny tried to walk more quietly towards his room. "Come here, Johnny." When he didn't come to the door, he called out again "I know you're there."

Grudgingly and not looking forward to what would come, Johnny turned around and walked to the entrance to the living room. "Hi," he said, not meeting his father's eyes.

"You're back."

"Yeah, it was getting dark…" Johnny said, looking at the floor.

"Where'd you go?" he asked in a determinedly calm voice.

"To a friend's house…"

"What did I tell you, boy?" his father yelled, and Johnny looked anywhere but at his father. He knew what he'd been told, but he didn't know how to answer without getting himself in worse trouble than he was already in. "You hear me?"

"Yes…" Johnny said, finally meeting his father's eyes and regretting it the second their gaze met; his father was angry, angrier than Johnny had ever seen him. It was scary.

"Then you know I told you that those 'friends' are no good! You can't be hanging out with people around here, you'll end up like them, robbing banks and jumping people at buss stops!"

"They aren't like that…"

"You don't know that! You think you know them, but you went playing football with them today, that's it! You hear me?" his father yelled, getting angrier with each word. "You know that I told you not to come back until your mother's home! I don't want to deal with you! You're turning out to be trash!" Johnny's father shouted in his face.

Johnny screwed up his face. His father's breath smelt bad, he'd smelt it before on nights when his father had been out all night… It was putrid and strong and always put his father in a foul mood.

"You're always around here making trouble… You're going to amount to nothing, you know that? You're already hanging around with riff-raff, don't bring home any decent friends from school… Teacher says your shy. Don't know how I ended up with a shy kid, but it's no good, you know that? You're turning out no good… Don't know what I'm going to do with you…" Johnny's father started saying, but Johnny was trying not to listen but it wasn't working. This was coming from his father; the man he'd always looked up to. What had he done so wrong to make him hate him so much?

"And I mean it this time boy; I swear to God that if I see your face again before your mothers home it'll never look the same again, so get the hell out!" As if to prove his point, he raised his hand and hit Johnny so hard he'd have a black eye for weeks, then shoved him to the door. "Get."

Johnny ran to the door and fumbled on the knob for a second before getting it open and running through, with tears blinding his vision. Before he slammed it behind him, he heard his fathers words, "And stay out!"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry about the lack of updates, I'll try to do better but I can't guarantee anything… But reviews do make me want to update faster. Don't really like how this one turned out, I'll try to make the next one better.  
Disclaimer: Don't own them  
And thanks for the help, Mrs. Heidi. 

Johnny ran blindly through the rain, not paying any attention to where his feet led him. He was soaked, his black hair was sticking to his forehead and his shirt was sticking to his back, socks soaked through his shoes. Where could he go? He didn't know anyone but the Curtis's, and he'd just left their house. How would he explain being out in the rain again? He continued to run, trying to get as far away from his house as he could. Finally, after a few minutes he sat down on the rain soaked grass under a tree. He looked around and realized he'd run to the lot he'd been playing football in earlier that day …

Looking around, Johnny saw it was very dark out. He didn't remember it getting dark, but he wasn't surprised because it had been such a long day. He liked it, in a way, because he got to know some people, maybe even made a few friends. But he hadn't liked his father, not much at all… With those thoughts in mind, tiredness overcame him and he laid down under the tree with only the branches as shelter from the rain, and fell into a deep sleep.

The light was pouring through his eyelids, the wind blowing softly in his ears. Johnny opened his eyes, thinking maybe last night had been a dream and he'd wake up in his slightly uncomfortable bed, but the one he'd grown used to. Feeling his wet clothes all around him, he knew that last night had happened and that he was sleeping in the one place he had good memories of; in the lot.

Johnny stood up, feeling his feet squish in his soaked shoes. They'd had quite a rain the night before, and he needed some dry clothes or he'd get sick and he knew it; so he started to walk home and was relieved when he saw his mothers' car in the lane, but his fathers car wasn't there. Johnny smiled to himself before entering his house.

"Mom?" he called out, walking into the kitchen looking for his mother.

"Mom?" he called out again, but still got no answer. He walked around the house for a minute, looking for her … It wasn't a big house, so where could she be?

"Mom!" he said as he saw his mother sitting on the chesterfield, watching the television with a blank expression on her face as though she didn't even see him. "Hi," he said, jumping onto the couch beside her.

In reply, she stood up and walked away, turning off the television as she passed it, leaving a very confused Johnny on the couch.

"Mom?" Johnny asked, standing up and following her out into the kitchen.

"What do you want, kid?" she asked him, very plainly, ignoring the hurt expression on his face at the word 'kid'.

"I'm cold, I had to sleep outside last ni-" he started to explain, but she turned her back to him and started busing herself pouring something into a glass from the refrigerator.

"I don't care, Johnny."

"But I'm cold…" he said, but his mother didn't answer once again. "Mom?" he asked, but at 6 years old he didn't realize how annoying his questions were to his mother.

"You know how to change. Get away," she said, and turning around she left a very sad Johnny in the kitchen.

Ignoring the cold engulfing his body, Johnny walked up to his bedroom and laid down on his unmade bed and fell into a sound sleep.

He woke up later to voices- he didn't know how much later, it could have been minutes, hours or days- he wouldn't have told the difference, yelling in the kitchen.

"Fuck Dor, I'm asking you where he is!"

"And I'm telling you, Chester, I don't know!"

"I know he was here, the kitchen floor is all wet! You calling me stupid, huh Dor?"

Johnny was coming to full awareness and realized what they were talking about; him. Him and his mother were fighting over him.

"Damnit Chester, you know I ain't calling you stupid! I don't know where the kid is, I ain't seen him around since he was down here pesterin' me!"

"So he was home, then?" Johnny's father roared.

"I already told you, the damned kid was home and annoying me to all end, then I left and I didn't see him since!"

"How do I know you're not hiding the fucking kid?! You always liked him more than I did, I never liked him! Hell, I don't even think he's mine you little whore-"

"You know he's yours! It's you that was sleeping around, not me! He looks exactly like you!"

"Like hell he does!" Johnny didn't know what they were talking about, something about him, so he stood up and walked towards his door and stood in the doorway so he could hear what they were saying more clearly, maybe it would allow him to understand what they meant more clearly, if he heard the whole thing …

"He's a god damn bastard! Ain't like we'd have gotten married had the kid not been born, fucking world going to shit around here!"

Johnny heard a door slam somewhere in the house, and heavy hurried footsteps hurrying up the stairs. He quickly ran back to his bed and pulled a blanket over him, hoping that whoever it was wouldn't see him. He held his breath when he could sense that someone was at his door, and he knew it was his father.

"I know you're there, kid," he said, his voice cruel and cold.

Johnny didn't move when he heard the footsteps coming up to his bed; he didn't breathe when he felt the blankets being ripped off him.

"What do you think you're doing, kid?!" he screamed loudly, and picked Johnny up easily by the shirt at his shoulders.

"What?" Johnny asked in a quiet voice, only to be thrown to the floor.

"You-never-going-to-be ANYTHING!" he screamed, punching Johnny in the face between each word with a stinging noise that, leaving fist marks on Johnny's face.

"Stop!" Johnny cried, lifting his hands to protect his face.

"You think I'll stop that easy, kid?" he screamed and lifted Johnny by the shirt again, this time throwing him against the wall, watching with a smile on his face as Johnny hit the floor with a thud.

"Don't let me see you again, kid," was the last thing that was said before he left the room, leaving the lingering smell of alcohol behind, and a thoroughly broken, sobbing Jonathan Cade laying on the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Would have had this up yesterday, but I put my hand through a glass door so I couldn't really type it too well.

Johnny stood up slowly, feeling unsteady on his feet. He reached out his left hand and pressed it against the wall to support himself, the other gingerly touching his head. He could feel a bump on the back of his head where he had hit the wall the previous night.

He looked at his clock and saw it said 8:57, which nearly sent Johnny to tears again, but he was learning to hold back. School started in three minutes, and Johnny had to get dressed, have breakfast, and walk to school. He'd never been late before, and didn't want to get a detention, so he ran to his dresser and pulled out a pair of his favorite blue jeans and a shirt.

Thinking that maybe his parent's had forgotten to wake him up, he called out, "Mom?" a few minutes later as he ran down the stairs, fully dressed and carrying his book bag. "Mom?" he called out again, but there was still no answer, and no sign of either of his parents anywhere. Thinking maybe they'd had to go to work early and they'd forgotten to tell him, he looked on the table where his mother always left his lunch, thinking he'd grab it and run to school; but it wasn't there. Johnny frowned and ran out the door.

"You're late," Mrs. Brown said as Johnny stepped into the classroom, his book bag slung over his shoulder.

"Sorry Mrs. Brown…" Johnny said quietly as he took his seat, putting his bag behind his chair, taking out his books and putting them on his desk.

"Do you have a good reason?" she asked, her brown eyes burning into him, making him feel out of place.

_Would not being woken up by your parents count as a good reason_? Johnny wondered.

"My dad's car broke down on the way here," Johnny said with a blush rising in his cheeks. He'd never been very good at lying to anyone, much less his teachers or anyone older than him.

Mrs. Brown turned around and started to write on the blackboard. "Since it's your first time, Jonathon, I won't give you detention, but if it happens again…" She let her voice trail off, and Johnny felt part of the anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach drift away. "Since you were late, Jonathon, will you read page 32 in the reader, out loud to the class?"

Johnny nodded, feeling every set of eyes in the class trained on him as he opened his book.

"The child was… wa… walking?" Johnny started, pronouncing every letter in the word walking, much to the giggles to some of the other kids in the class. "Down the street when to his… s… urp.. rize…" he continued, sounded out the word slowly as he read. "A l…a… A lamb… ca-"

"It's lamb, Johnny, you don't pronounce the 'B'," Mrs. Brown told him with a hint of annoyance in her voice.  
"Sorry…" Johnny mumbled, his blush more pronounced than ever. "A lamb came th.. th.. through?" At his pronunciation of the word 'Though' the entire class went into the laughter, and even Mrs. Brown couldn't keep a straight face. "Sorry…" he said again.

"That's enough, Johnny," Mrs. Brown said. "Janet, can you finish?"

Johnny wasn't sure if she'd picked Janet because she wanted to hear Janet read or whether it was to make Johnny look bad, but either way she'd made him look even worse than he had while reading; Janet delivered the rest of the page without hesitation and without a single mistake pronouncing a word.

"Can you all hand in this weekends homework?" Mrs. Brown asked after they had all put away their readers, and started to walk up and down the isles collecting a notebook from each student.

Johnny reached into his desk, feeling happy because at least he'd done something right. He'd done his homework, and even though some student's would be better than his, he was confident that he had done a decent job. At least, he was confident until he couldn't find his notebook in his desk, or in his book bag, or on the floor, or on his desk… Then, he remembered.

"Johnny?" Mrs. Brown said, this time with a look of obvious annoyance.

"I forgot it," he said quietly, looking at his shoes.

"You what?"

"I forgot it at home," he said a little louder, still not looking at her.

"I think that means you didn't do it," she said, slapping his desk with the palm of her hand. "Today isn't your day, Jonathon Cade… Detention, today, at lunch. Room 21. Bring your lunch."

Johnny frowned and tried to dig the toe of his shoe into the floor, thinking of what his first detention would bring.

When Johnny walked into detention, it wasn't like what he'd thought it would be. Students were sitting around talking, eating their lunches, just like what happened during normal lunches. He took a seat and looked around; there wasn't anyone he knew there, and then he realized there wasn't even a teacher there. Anything could happen and no one would even be there to stop it… At the thought, two people sat down beside him, one on each side.

"Hey Johnny," said the one on his left. Johnny looked over and realized it was Sodapop.

"Hey…" he replied.

"What are you doing here?" the boy on his right asked, and Johnny realized it was Steve.

"Detention… I forgot my homework," he said quietly.

"Really, that's it? I'm here for sticking pencil's in the ceiling… I didn't think I'd get caught; the teacher wasn't in the room when I started… I didn't know she'd walk in on me doing it… She was madder about me standing on the desk than anything," Soda chattered.

"Then why's Steve here?" Johnny asked, looking at Steve.

"They were his pencils," Soda said, and when Johnny looked back at him he had a huge grin on his face. "Where's the teacher here, anyways?"

Johnny shrugged and it made Soda grin even wider as he opened up a brown bag that Johnny knew contained his lunch and Steve did the same.

"Where's your lunch?" Steve asked Johnny, realizing Johnny didn't have anything with him but a book.

"I forgot it…" Johnny mumbled, and Soda stopped grinding a pencil into the hole in the desk to look at him.

"What are you doing to eat then?" he asked, looking at the book as if it was in danger of being eaten.

"Nothing, I'll eat when I get home I guess…" Johnny said.

"Not hungry?" Steve asked him.

"No," Johnny answered, but his stomach betrayed him by gurgling loudly just as he answered.

"Well…" Soda said, lowering his apple from where he had it aimed at a classmates head. "Want an apple?" Without waiting for an answer, he dropped it on the desk Johnny was sitting at.

"You can have half my sandwich if you want…" Steve said slowly, as though not sure if he wanted to make the sacrifice then decided it would be worth it. "It's bologna though," he said with a little frown on his face.

"That's okay," Johnny said smiling for the first time since the previous day. "I always get bologna." _Maybe detention won't be so bad,_ Johnny thought to himself.

A/N: Since I ended the last chapter sadly, I thought I'd end this one on a friendship note And Two-Bit and Dally _are_ coming, promise.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Uh, okay… Motivate me with reviews. I'm in one of the biggest writing slouches I've ever been in during my life, but the more reviews I have the more I'll see a reason to write. If it wasn't thanks to Heidi here (pokes OMG NO WAYY x53), I wouldn't be updating yet at all. Hence why it's short, because I'm totally unmotivated and only writing

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders.

"So we're playing football again after school Johnny, want to come again? Ponyboy was happy with you being there last time, maybe he'll stay quiet this time if you come too… My brothers friend is coming this time, he's really nice and he's funny-" Soda was saying, but he was interrupted.

"Silence," someone said, and Johnny looked up to see that a teacher had finally came into the room. "For whoever doesn't know, I'm Mr. Sherdock… I expect you all know why you're here, and I hope you all brought something to do, because from now on, there will be no talking," he finished, and the room went silent except for the sound of pages ruffling and the scratching of pencils on paper.

Mr. Sherdock was a plump man who was almost bald except for a little gray hair left on the top of his head. Despite his rather old appearance, he came across as a man not to be messed with; and judging by the silence in the room Johnny thought he was right and no one dared disobey him.

Johnny picked up a piece of paper and tried to make it seem like he was doing something by moving his pen around, but he wasn't writing a word; he was thinking of how his life had changed in only a few days.

"Keith," Mr. Sherdock said, and Johnny looked up to see him staring at someone sitting somewhere behind him. Mr. Sherdock stood up. "Keith!" Still, no one answered. "Mr. Matthews!"

"Yeah?" said someone whom Johnny assumed was Keith.

"Sit your chair on all four legs and get to work."

Johnny heard the snap of chair legs hitting the floor, and the boy said "But I don't got any work."

"You cannot tell me that you do not have any work to do when you're failing my class and have only handed in two assignments all year, Keith," the teacher said in an annoyed voice. Johnny turned around in his chair to see the boy shrug. He was older than Johnny, and Johnny knew he was a few grades higher. He saw the boy grin.

"I didn't say I don't got any work to do, I said I don't got any work… Here." He made a sweeping gesture with his hands across his desk, as though to show that he had nothing on it.

Johnny turned around and started to doodle on his paper. He didn't want to listen to any more of the conversation, because he was sure Keith was about to get in trouble. Needless to say, he was surprised when a few minutes later Keith plopped down into the seat ahead of him, turned around, and started poking him.

"What?" Johnny asked in surprise.

"I need paper," he answered, and pointed at the little pile of paper Johnny had stored below the sheet he was doodling on. Johnny silently gave a piece to Keith, but when Keith kept his hand outstretched he gave him another piece, and another, until he only had the piece he was doodling on left. Keith smiled and turned around, and Johnny turned back to his doodling.

_Twing!_ Johnny looked up to see Keith turned half way around in his seat with an elastic band around his thumb and middle finger, saw him pull it back to make a V, put a little piece of paper in and let it go, sending the paper across the room, hitting someone in the side of the head.

"Keith!" the teacher said again, and Johnny heard Soda and Keith snigger.

"Yes?"

"That's now how you use paper. Don't do that any more."

"Okay!" Keith said, now balling up paper and throwing it at the teachers head.

"Detention again, Mr. Matthews, after school. You'll be cleaning blackboards, alone." His voice left no room or argument, which of course meant that Keith had to argue.

"How many times do you call me Mr. Matthews and I tell you to call me Two-Bit?" he asked. "But I can't do it today after school, I'm playing football with Soda here, and I can't miss it." Like Mr. Sherdock, his voice left no room for argument.

"Do not use that tone with me, _Keith. _Today, after school. This room, don't be late." With that, the bell rang and everyone in the room ran for the door, eager to get out of that room.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Happy Holidays everyone  Update as a present.   
Disclaimer: Don't own The Outsiders.  
Dedication: To everyone who has less during the holidays than we've come to know.

The chilly air nipped at Johnny's skin as he ran home, glad school was over for the holidays. It was the first day they got off for Christmas break- two weeks without school! Things hadn't been too great at home the year before for him during the break, but he was sure this year would be different- it was almost Christmas! How could anyone be in a bad mood? Maybe he'd go home and help his mother bake cookies- he'd heard Suzie say that's what she does over the holidays, or maybe he'd help his dad pick out a Christmas tree- Dave had said he does that as soon as he got home from school. He'd never done anything like that before with his parents, they'd always just sat around watching television, and last year they hadn't even done that- but maybe this year would be the year when things would change for Jonathon Cade.

By the time he stepped into the protection of his house, he was out of breath and his skin was red from the cold. He was safe from the weather inside, but he had the feeling he wasn't safe from the impending danger that lurked inside the walls of his house; sometimes it came out during the night, sometimes during the day. He could smell what he had came to associate with danger in the air- thick smoke mixed with the stench of alcohol. As soon as the putrid smell hit his nose, he knew that things _would_ be different this year, but he had been wrong to think that they'd be for the better.

Johnny could hear his parents in the living room, but for once they weren't arguing. They'd been doing that a lot lately, especially when he was around. Deciding he didn't want to get them going, he thought he'd go upstairs and get his homework done, so that he wouldn't have to worry about it later. Once he got upstairs and opened his books, it was a different story entirely. He was supposed to read chapter 7 of his reader and answer the questions on the next page, but his eyes kept scanning over the first sentence, unable to make any sense of what it said.

'Then… the man named… Joe came out… side…' Johnny started to read half out loud but half in his mind, thinking it might help him concentrate. 'Outside. He was… marred... mar… He was marr…' With a sigh, Johnny put his head down on his book and before he knew it, he was catching up on some of the sleep he'd been missing at nights while laying awake in bed, listening to his parent's argue…

------

Johnny woke up some hours later, rubbing his sleep out of his eyes and wondering why he fell asleep with his head on the desk. It ached something awful and his whole body felt stiff from the awkward position it had been bent in since earlier that day. He stiffened even more when his ears picked up his fathers loud angry voice, and his mothers answering back in a voice shaking with rage. He didn't want to be in the house; his father had been getting fonder and fonder of coming up to Johnny's room to vent his rage on him. Picking up the book off his desk, Johnny decided he didn't want to be in the house any longer.

------

Johnny gulped, his heart racing and his fingers clutching his book so hard that his knuckles were white as he stood outside the door. He knew the Curtis family fairly well, and they had told him he could go over anytime he felt he needed to; even the thought of that couldn't chase away the feeling in his stomach that he was intruding on something important. Swallowing hard, he reached out his free hand and knocked on the door.

Mrs. Curtis answered the door a few seconds later; her hair was askew, she had flour on her face and a white apron tied around her waist.

"Johnny!" she said with a smile on her face, reaching out her hand covered in some kind of goop to his and bringing him inside the house, shutting the door behind them. "I haven't seen you lately! You haven't been coming around…" She briefly stopped her chatting to give him a quick one armed hug. "Come, come! We're making cookies in the kitchen, you can join us if you would like…" She didn't wait for an answer before taking him into the kitchen and putting him in a chair.

It was true, he _hadn't_ been coming around lately. He'd been trying to please his father; trying to get him to treat him differently… But it hadn't worked. All that happened was that he suffered alone, without any friends.

"Hi Johnny!" Johnny looked around and saw Ponyboy sitting on the counter, crayon in hand, staring at him and waving. Johnny waved back, smiling. Beside Ponyboy was Darry, standing as though he was making sure Ponyboy didn't fall off the counter.

"Johnny!" someone else said, and Johnny looked up to see the boy from detention sitting beside him. "Long time no see!"

Johnny nearly blushed at that. They'd met once and now he was acting like they were long lost best friends. "Yeah… Long time no see." Johnny wracked his mind trying to remember the boy's name, but he was saved when Mrs. Curtis spoke.

"Keith, you know Johnny?" she asked with a smile.

"Of course I know Johnny!" Keith said, and Johnny thought he was going to be in for another little outburst, but then Keith stood up and walked to the other side of the room, sat beside Steve and started harassing him. Johnny could hear him on the other side of the room, teasing him about everything from his hair to his jeans.

"Yeah, well at least _my_ parents aren't fighting so I have to go somewhere else, Two-Bit," Steve shot back after a particularly nasty remark, and Johnny thought he felt the room fill with a little tension.

Two-Bit hit Steve across the back of the head. "Only because they aren't together enough to fight," he said with a goofy smile, and all was forgiven and forgotten as the playful teasing resumed.

Johnny remembered they were supposed to be making cookies, but looking around he saw that Mrs. Curtis was the only one doing any making; everyone else was either doing nothing or being destructive; eating dough or throwing bits of it at each other when Mrs. Curtis wasn't looking. He felt something hit him in the head, and saw a very happy looking Sodapop looking right at him with a smile on his face. Johnny reached back and pulled a gooey chunk of sugar cookie dough out of his hair and without thinking threw it back at Soda, hitting him in the nose. Soda reached up and put it in his mouth, eating it, not seeming to care that it had been in Johnny's hair.

"Soda!" Mrs. Curtis said with an air of impatience, looking up from where she had been cutting shapes out with cookie cutters. "Stop eating the dough, I don't want to make more! But it look's like I'll have to…" With that, she turned her back to her son to make another batch since a good deal of the first one was already eaten or on the floor. Soda grinned at her back, and stuck out his tongue before reaching out and grabbing the last handful of dough, stuffing it into his mouth. He resembled a squirrel with nuts in its mouth by the time he had gotten it all in.

Mrs. Curtis turned around, bowl in hand, mixing something with a spoon. She made to put it in the bowl on the table that had been holding the other dough only to realize that there was none left.

"Who took the rest of the cookie dough?" she asked, looking around, her eyes stopping on Soda and his pudgy cheeks. Soda met her eyes.

"Wasn't me!" he said thickly, although his words could hardly be understood. Little bits of dough came out his mouth when he opened it.

"Soda!" Mrs. Curtis said crossly, but before long she joined in the laughter that filled the kitchen.

For the first time ever, Johnny had a Christmas memory worthy of remembrance. How was he to know that somewhere in the city of New York a boy was having the kind of Christmas even worse than the one Johnny usually experienced?

A/N: That's four day's worth of work right there, as opposed to the usual hour. Was the quality any different than normal?

Jingle Bells

Sarah Updated

It was her present for you

Now be nice

And give Sarah

A nice gift and review.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry, sorry. I've been working on this since the last update but was completely stuck and hopeless for a long, long time. I'm sorry, next time will be faster, promise, promise P.s.: Where the heck does the ' go in Curtis's?  
Dedication: To Ger, wherever he's run off to these days.

The holidays blew over quickly in a torrent of rain and gusting winds. In a way, it seemed too soon for Johnny; he wasn't looking forward to going back to school and being ridiculed by some classmates for his ripped clothing and inability to read as well as them. He'd concentrated on his homework and had it completed, it had kept his mind off the sound of the arguments that flooded through the house on an almost daily basis. In a way, he waned to go back to school as an escape from his home life. It seemed that no matter which way he went he couldn't escape the darkness that followed him.

As luck would have it, the morning when he woke up to go to school, the sky was dark and the air was filled with the sounds of his parent's voices. For a moment he considered not going to school, simply doing nothing all day; laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and counting spiders, but before he could even think of what he was doing he was out the door, going to school, carrying only his books and a jacket that he hadn't had time to put on.

"Hey Johnny," said a voice coming up behind him, which startled him a for a moment. "Walk with me?"

Johnny turned around for a second before his face split into a grin. "Sure I'll walk with you Soda… Where's Steve?" He'd come to realize that wherever Soda was, Steve wasn't far away.

Soda looked good; better than he usually did. He looked happier than usual, which was saying a lot since he was the happiest person Johnny had ever met, and he was wearing a new shirt. His jeans had holes in the knees, but by the look on his face it was as if he didn't even know.

"He's stayin' home today, his dad came and got him last night from my house, we was going to have a sleepover but he had to go home, and his dad said not to come over in the mornin', so… That means he's staying home."

"Oh…" was Johnny's simple reply. He never knew what to say, even to Soda.

"Where's your lunch?" Soda asked after a few moments passed in silence, noticing that Johnny was only carrying his books.

Johnny was quiet for a minute before saying, "I guess I forgot it."

"Didn't you forget it before? You sure are forgetful Johnny, but so am I."

After waiting a minute for Soda to continue, the question was asked, "Did you forget anything today?"

"No," Soda answered, shaking his head. "Not that I remember anyways. I'll get to school and then we'll be doing homework and I'll remember I left it at home… Well, maybe today I won't remember I left it at home, because I forgot it at school before the break, but you know what I mean, don't you Johnny?"

"Yeah," Johnny answered, smiling weekly. He wasn't looking forward to being asked for his homework, but not because he'd forgotten it. "I know."

----

As soon as Johnny stepped into the classroom, he felt like an oddball. Most of the kids were wearing new clothes like Soda, although some looked like they had cost more than others. After a minute of looking around, Johnny saw two other boys dressed in old clothes full of holes, which made him feel a bit better about himself- he wasn't the only one who hadn't gotten new clothes for Christmas.

"I hope everyone had fun during their holidays!" Mrs. Brown announced loudly, closing the door as the bell rang. "I thought we'd start today off a little bit differently… Why don't we all say a little of what we did during our break when I call your name from the roster?"

As a murmur of agreement hit Johnny's ears, he cringed. He could hardly say he did nothing with his family and hung around with the Curtis's making cookies and learning to play chess through lessons with Mr. Curtis? After hearing a few minutes worth of stories of classmates, he decided that wasn't what he was going to do.

"I stayed at home during the break…" He said quietly once his name was called. "We made cookies and played chess, and opened presents…" Everyone else had taken an awful lot longer than he had, but he stopped once he realized he'd just called the Curtis house home. A few people snickered at how little he did during his holiday, which caused Johnny to shoot them a dirty look.

He'd called the Curtis place home, but he hadn't really meant to. He knew he was always welcome there, but he couldn't think of it as anything other than 'The place where the Curtis's live', he couldn't even call it 'The Curtis's home', because he'd never really known what a home was. By the time he came out of his thoughts, Janet Walker was finishing telling what she did over the holidays, something about going on a trip to New York, bringing Johnny to briefly wonder if people from New York were as stuck up as the people from the West side of Tulsa.

----

The rest of the day at school went without a hitch, and for once Johnny was feeling good when he was walking home from school. He'd managed to get a decent mark on his homework by explaining to the teacher he hadn't understood it; she'd helped him out, although a bit too fast for his liking, and there had been something impatient in her tone. She'd ending up telling him what to write half the time, but he still felt good. Maybe he'd have something worth showing to his parents.

He was a few streets away from his house when he heard a car honking behind him; a loud clear beep, not like the muffled honk that came from his parent's car. He ignored it, not seeing what it had to do with him- he was on the sidewalk, out of the way… There were a few kids further behind him. When the honking continued, he turned and saw the car quickly approaching him, and it slowed down when it reached beside him.

It was a nice car- for a moment Johnny wondered how some teenagers had gotten a hold of such a nice car, and thought that they had perhaps stolen it, but when he saw inside he decided they were just rich- they had nice clothes as well as a nice car.

"Hey, kid!" one of them called out of the back window, and Johnny nearly choked, not knowing how to deal with older kids, or rich kids for that matter. "What are you doing, kid, walking all by your lonesome? Hey, Grease!"

Johnny looked at the ground and started to walk a little faster when he heard the car stop. He didn't know why they were stopping, why they were talking to him or what they wanted- but he knew what he wanted! He wanted to get home so he wouldn't have to deal with them! He was cursed when he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder and started to struggle when it started steering him off the street and into the backyard of a house.

"Stop fighting Johnny!" someone said, and Johnny finally looked up and saw he was standing outside the Curtis's house, which wasn't surprising since he had recognized the voice as Darry's. "Don't want to leave you alone by those creeps…"

"What…" Johnny started, but couldn't quite put his thoughts into words. He wondered what Soda would have said, Soda could always put his thoughts into words. Heck, sometimes it seemed he could put Johnny's thoughts into words too, without even being told what he was thinking.

"Come on," Darry said, opening the door and ushering Johnny inside. "Those guys are still around… We'll talk."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I know, I know. Long time, again. Please don't give up on me- I've already got the next chapter drafted so it shouldn't be so long between updates. I'm trying, but things keep coming up (a.k.a. procrastinated homework) that don't allow me to update when I'd like to. If there's anything you'd like to see happen in this fic, let me know and I'll see if I can work it in!  
Disclaimer: Not mine.

Johnny and Darry were alone in the house, giving Johnny a slight sense of discomfort. He was never uneasy when he was in the Curtis house; it must have been a whole five degrees warmer than his house, which might have been caused by the door never being left open after drunken arguments, or it might have just been caused by the warmth the residents let off, rather than the cold felt around his own parents. The doors didn't squeak, the milk didn't have an old, musty taste to it. The kitchen was clean; no dirty dishes would sit in the sink for more than two hours after a meal. The windows were all intact, and there was an actual concrete path leading up to the house, rather than worn dirt which was the usual on this side of the town. The couch was more comfortable; Johnny was sitting on it, looking curiously at Darry who was sitting in the chair opposite him.

"You stay away from those boys, Johnny Cade, they're no good," was what Darry said, looking completely serious. Johnny thought it was a joke for a minute; Darry didn't talk to him much, and when he did, Johnny had been left with the impression that he looked for the good in people rather than the bad. He smiled briefly at the thought that maybe he'd be able to find something good about his parents. The smile faded as memories of the arguments came to his mind, suffocating any good thoughts.

"Maybe when you're older," Darry continued, "You'll be able to be friends with people like that. Right now, you stay away from them, or there will be trouble."

"What's the matter with them?" Johnny asked.

"They don't like kids like us."

"Why don't they like kids like us?" Johnny pressed, confused over what Darry was talking about. Sure, kids didn't like kids, but why would a whole car full of teens not like

someone much younger than them that they had never met?

"They just don't, Johnny."

He was quiet for a minute, looking at the ground. What was the difference between him and them?

"You don't like them?" Johnny asked, sure he had seen him with the same kinds of kids during breaks in class.

"I don't not like them, and I don't like them, but I'm not you and they don't like you," he answered, not wanting to get into an entire speech on the difference of intelligence and appearance, and how much of a difference it made to some.

"Is it because they're rich and we're not?" Johnny asked, remembering the nice mustang, then remembering his parents beat up black old car that's brand couldn't even be distinguished anymore; half the time it didn't even work, which left his parents cursing while looking for another way to get around since they couldn't pay for it to be fixed.

"It ain't only that, Johnny. They're rich and we're not, and they think they're better than us, but we don't think they are, and they think they dress nicer and we don't like the way they dress and it just doesn't work out." Darry sounded a little agitated, and Johnny had never heard it in his voice before.

That didn't make much sense to Johnny; Darry was the nicest dressed boy on this side of town. He didn't even dress like the rich kids, though he dressed better than the poor kids. But Darry had said they didn't get along… He spent the next few minutes trying to figure out why Darry didn't like them or didn't not like them, and whether it made a difference how Darry dressed.

After a lull in the conversation, Johnny stood up and ground the toe of his shoe into the carpet nervously. He wasn't used to being alone with Darry and he couldn't quite figure the guy out. Darry was like a mix of everyone he had ever met with a bit of something unreal to him that made him more intimidating than anyone else.

"Well," he said, watching as Darry raised his head to look away from the spot on the wall he had been contently staring at. "I guess I'll go home…"

"I'll go with you, so if them Soc's come back…" Darry told him, standing up and walking towards the door.

"You don't have to come!" Johnny said, but before he could leave or keep Darry home, they were out the door walking down the street

If his parents were home and Darry went to the door with him, would he hear them shouting? Johnny wasn't sure if Darry would still think of him as almost being a friend if he knew that his parents shouted at him and each other all the time; after all, Darry was a good person but his parents never shouted. Johnny's parents shouted all the time, so he wasn't sure what that made him.

As they neared the house, he could hear his parents shouting- maybe it was because his parents always shouted, so he was used to the noise, and he knew it would be there so he was listening for it- but Darry didn't seem to notice it. He just kept on walking as if there weren't shouts of profanity wafting down the street. A cat jumped and ran across the sidewalk from its hiding place in the shadows as they walked by.

"Which one's yours, Johnny?" Darry asked as they neared his house and it was no longer ignorable that there was screaming going on inside Number 13.

"That one," Johnny said, pointing to his house, and moving onto the driveway. "Thanks for walking me, Darry," he mumbled quietly.

Darry quickly glanced up to the broken upstairs window, and then down to the worn dirt path leading up to the door, which looked ready to fall off the hinges. He made a slight face as a particularly long line of words he'd get a whooping if he said became audible, then glanced at Johnny, not able to believe that the quiet spoken, shy boy actually lived there. A second after they made eye contact, a slam resounded as the door Johnny had just dashed to shut.

"No problem, Johnny," he said to the now empty spot where Johnny had been moments before.


	11. Chapter 11

1

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Johnny?" Ponyboy asked, tapping the boy sitting next to him on the elbow.

"Sorry Pony," Johnny answered, looking back down at the picture he had been drawing. Two stick figure adults on one side, a child stick figure in the middle with arms stretched out towards both sides of the paper, and several people drawn in more detail on the other side. He started to draw hair on the two adults, choosing the black crayon.

He glanced at Pony's paper and saw a sun smiling down on a group of people holding hands. There was quite a difference between the two drawings; one bright and gave off the image of happiness, the other with a large black X over the entire page, for Johnny had just crossed his drawing out, nearly breaking the crayon in the process.

"I asked if you're favorite colour is black."

"Oh... No..."

"Just wonderin' because you're usin' a lot of it," came Ponyboys voice again, and he picked up Johnny's now discarded drawing and examined it. "You sure don't like them much, do you?" Johnny could see Ponyboy's finger tracing the X and stopping on the two adult figures that he had crossed out individually.

"Don't like who?"

"These two."

They'd been having that conversation for day's. The two of them got together and drew a lot, and most of the time it was a similar scenario. Johnny would draw two adults and a little boy, then scratch the picture out. Why couldn't he just draw a sun like Ponyboy and be done with it?

"They're just pictures, Ponyboy."

Johnny turned around at the sound of the new voice, and frowned a little when he saw it was Darry. He still liked Darry an awful lot, and was glad that Darry did not seem to have told anyone that his parents weren't nice people, but he wasn't as comfortable around him as he once was; Darry knew Johnny's secret and it could spill out at any second.

But yet, he knew Darry would not, at least, until such a time came that it was necessary. Johnny had thought it ever since the first moment they had met; Darry was a person to be trusted through and through.

Apparently that answer suited Ponyboy, who had just drawn a big cake with a candle in the middle. "When's your birthday, Johnny?" he asked, drawing more candles on the cake.

"Next..." He paused, imagining the calender in his mind. "Tuesday."

"Well gee Johnny, you sure are good at keepin' secrets!"

Johnny couldn't reply.

---

Time seemed to pass more quickly than normal for Johnny Cade, and if he didn't know better he'd have said that someone had rigged the clocks- but he did know better, it was like this every year: he would think of ways to explain away his absence at school if he decided not to go, or would think of reasons not to be having a party when they announced his birthday at school, as they always did. The one day a year that so many children looked forward to, Johnny dreaded; his birthday came far too fast.

Almost as though it was mocking his mood, the sun was out and it was an unusually hot day for March the first. The first morning rays shined brightly through Johnny's torn curtains, arousing him from his sleep far too early for his liking.

"Just want to sleep," he muttered to himself and put his pillow over his eyes. He'd already made up his mind; he wasn't going to school on his birthday. He'd stay home and sleep, at least until he was sure his parents were gone, then he'd get up and do whatever he felt like; sleep, eat something, maybe go for a walk. He never felt like doing much on his birthday, and knew it was because he was in such a bad mood.

By the time nine o'clock had came and gone according to Johnny's alarm clock, Johnny was sure the world was out to get him. He had finally managed to settle back into something resembling to sleep, only to be awoken to the slamming of a car door and loud cursing coming from the house.

It was no different than any other year, or really, any other day. His birthday was not acknowledged by his own parents... Treatment he was used to.

With a sigh, Johnny tried to go back to sleep.

---

The chatter of children woke Johnny from his sleep, and he figured school had just been let out. People always walked by on their way home, and since he usually left his window open, he could hear them clear as a bell. Thinking that he wouldn't get much sleep, since it usually got louder rather than quieter in the evenings, Johnny got out of bed and quietly left the house.

The sounds of playing met his ears, and before he could stop, his feet were leading him towards somewhere that he had been spending more and more time; the lot at the end of his street, vacant of all but weeds, an oak tree that provided shade from the oppress summer heat, and a lot of litter. With a smile at the sound of a familiar voice, Johnny stepped up his pace.

Maybe his birthday wouldn't be so bad after all.

A.N: Zohmygee, I survive! I think most of the people who were reading this are gone, but hopefully alerts will be sent and new readers will join. If not, enjoy whoever has been steadfast and is sticking to this, despite my ridiculous delays in updating. There's this little thing called 'Life'... I seem to have just been introduced this year!


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